Our Time Together in the Hole
by EndlessNight101
Summary: Sherlock's dead to the world, but he needs a place to hide out while he makes plans for dismantling Moriarty's Criminal Network. In his moment of need, there is only one place he can think of staying; Molly Hooper's place. She's already done so much for him, but how will she endue Sherlock making her home his new bolt hole? Takes place between Series 2 and 3, potential Sherlolly
1. Chapter 1

**_AN: Hello! So, I know it's been a long, long, looonng time since I posted any stories! But I recently have fallen madly in love for BBCs Sherlock! Like, watched all the episodes within two days and then have rewatched them over and over since. It's such an amazing show, and I couldn't resist writing something! So, I picked my favourite sorta-canon couple; Sherlolly! I hope you enjoy this (it's only the first chapter), but please let me know what you think either way!_**

**_Without further ado, I present "Our Time Together in the Hole"_**

The sun was starting to set when they finally found a body bag that would fit Sherlock. Molly told them to find a large, but apparently the order had been delayed, and all they had were mediums. She took it from one of Sherlock's Homeless agents, then turned and laid it out on the stretcher; he looked at it and sighed.

"Mycroft is being thorough, hasn't he?" he muttered, picking up the oxygen mask from off the table behind him and carried it over his shoulder. He shuffled closer to the solid black, vinyl bag, looking down on it with distain, then turned and sat on the gurney, slowly swinging his legs into the bag one at a time. He then shoved the small oxygen tank down in the bag beside his leg, and pulled the mask up so it was resting on his shoulder. Molly bit her lip nervously; she wasn't sure he was going to fit.

"You sure you don't want… something?" Molly asked, feeling claustrophobic just watching him squirming into that bag. "Something to help you relax? Or sleep even?"

"No," Sherlock replied back flatly, untangling the tube for his oxygen and placing the mask up to his face. "I need to think. Can't do that very well when I'm high, can I?"

"Right…" Molly mumbled. She helped Sherlock pull the mask on his face so he could breathe, and then held the bag open so he could manoeuvre his shoulders in. "I'm sorry if it's a bit small, but we're out of your size at the moment…" Surprisingly, Sherlock did not answer; he just shrugged and then slipped his head in under the zipper. He barely fit, as Molly suspected; he had to bend his neck at the top, and his toe were pressed right against the bottom of the bag. This wasn't going to be a comfortable journey for him, but then again, no one had ever tried it before when they were alive, as far as she knew.

Sighing, she looked down at Sherlock as he lay in the black body bag. The sight of him, laying there with his eyes closed (now deep in thought) even with the oxygen mask caused Molly's stomach flip out in horror. The thought of Sherlock, being dead and really lying in this case made Molly sick to her stomach. She wanted to give herself a moment to push the image out of her head, but they were on a schedule, as Mycroft continually reminded them. "It will be fine; your brother's taken care of everything" she cracked a small smile. Sherlock just rolled his eyes.

"Better make sure they let me out before he incinerates me then." he grumbled through the mask. Molly sniffed a quick laugh, but it fell away almost immediately.

"See you soon," she whispered, then gently zipped the bag closed.

It had been a long day for Molly. She'd not even got the chance to go home last night! Right as she was closing up, Sherlock showed up and told her that he thought he was going to die, and that she was the only one who could save him. At that moment, she had never felt so important in her life, but terrified at the same time. If Sherlock was in danger, then it was not something that would be an easy fix. But how could she resist? Especially when he told her what he needed was _her_. It was like a dream come true for her… a really messed up dream, but still.

But now, she was going over 24 hours without sleep. Her eyes were getting heavy, and she had to stifle a yawn every few minutes, yet her mind was still going a 100 miles a minute. Up all night with Sherlock and his brother, trying to create as many plans as possible to save Sherlock's life had been like one giant mental exercise, and it was finally starting to take its toll. But it wasn't done yet… not quite.

Once the 'funeral attendants' had wheeled Sherlock away, she closed the door behind them and locked it before she tore the envelope open. Inside was a single sheet of paper, double-sided with the loveliest handwriting she'd ever seen. _I suppose someone who is paid to sign important documents must have neat handwriting… _she thought as she unfolded the paper and started to read her next instructions. Right at the top of the page on both sides, there was a quick note that read "Burn Immediately After Reading." She felt like she was in a spy movie or something, with all these instructions about destroying evidence and covertly smuggling people in and out of the hospital. But, despite the unnecessary repetition of disposal instructions, she continued.

_Ms. Hooper,_

_As per Operation Lazarus, my brother must keep up the illusion of being dead until such a time that we are sure that all threats have been eliminated. This will require, of course, having him smuggled out of the country, which despite all my planning will require a couple more days of negotiations. Therefore, until such a time that travel arrangements are finalized, my brother and I have decided that it be best that he stay at your flat._

_My flat!? _Molly gasped. "Oh, Lord…" This certainly was not what she was expecting from this plan! She expected to smuggle over that doppelgänger corpse once the injuries and make-up were finalized, and perhaps get to say goodbye to him there, but she never imagined in a million years that the plan would be to have him stay at _her_ flat!

_There will be additional security added around your building, of course, but discretion must still be exercised to the highest degree. This means that we've had to come up with an elaborate plan to get him over there unseen, which I will lay out now._

_At precisely 9:25 this evening, you will call the Jade Gardens take-away line and ask for a delivery of the Combo #1 to your flat. Then, at approximately 45 minutes later (traffic pertaining), the buzzer to your flat be rang in an S.O.S. pattern. You will answer the call on your intercom and then let the delivery man in. When he arrives at your door, the same S.O.S. pattern will be knocked on your door._

_After he's been let in, he will have to change out of the uniform and into the clothes that are provided in the take-away bag. The uniform will then be hung out on your door knob where an agent will take them and leave the building, providing the illusion that you were too depressed to cook tonight and simply ordered Chinese._

_I don't know about _depressed_, but I'm certainly too exhausted to cook anything! _Molly thought with a sigh, then flipped over the page to read the back.

_While we finalize his travel arrangements, my brother will need to stay in your flat. Needless to say, he is not to leave the flat, use any electronic devices including your phone, nor are you to have any visitors or overly-long phone calls while he's staying there. Please also (as best that you can) keep him away from alcohol and cigarettes. Your kitchen has been well-stocked with food, so you won't need to go out and get anything. To the rest of the world, it will just look like you've taken some time for bereavement (which you have; the information about your temporary leave of absence has already been filed to Bart's). But for you, I'm afraid, it will feel like an extended bout of child minding._

_I apologize in advance if my brother is unkind or more irritating than usual while he's staying with you. But, as this is a matter of national security, I think that I can safely say that both my brother and England need you to bare the burden. As compensation for this inconvenience, you will be issued a large monetary sum in instalments once your guest has been transported out of the country; it will be in cash, and inside your monthly cable bill. _

_I trust that I do not need to remind you that after my brother has left, you are to keep your involvement in his death and his hideout an absolute secret, and if you will be harshly punished should you break this agreement. I'm sorry if I sound like a dictator, but I do have to say it all, just as a precaution. With that being said, however, I know that even if it meant discomfort and sorrow for yourself, you would be more than willing to endure it if not for Sherlock._

_Thank you again, Ms. Hooper, _

_Mycroft Holmes._

Molly read over the letter twice more, then crumpled it in her hands. She still couldn't believe that the genius plan, the best hideout that the Holmes boys could come up with, was to have him hide out in _her_ flat! She was mentally making a list of all the things that had to be done before he got there as she walked over to the fume hood, lit one of the bunsen burners, and then held the letter over the blue flame with a pair of tongs.

_Sherlock Holmes is going to be staying in my flat… Sleeping in my flat… Showering in my flat! _She felt faint again, but one look at the clock over the door told her she had no time to consider swooning; she had only 50 minutes until she was supposed to call and order Sherlock from the take-away! _God, I have so much to do!_

_***  
**AN:** **SO?! What did you think? Review and let me know!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**AN:**__** Hi! So I'm glad that so far, people have been enjoying the story. So, I figured I would write some more (before I get tied up with work over the weekend). So, without further ado, here is Chapter 2!**_

Molly rushed to the closest tube stop, which was about a 5 minute walk. But, by the time she'd got there, she'd just missed the train.

_Great, more time to waste…_ she thought with a sigh. This would mean she would have even less time to clean up her flat before Sherlock arrived.

Her tube ride to Camden Lock was going to take about 25 minutes. That was 25 minutes to think about all the things that were about to happen; rehearse the plan in her head. She was to call Jade Gardens and order take-away for one (_Lovely that Mycroft thought to keep up the facade of me being this pathetic single woman… _she thought bitterly), then let her 'delivery' in after what would only be the most irritating buzzer ring in the world, followed by the same knock. And then… who knew.

_Where is he going to sleep?! My spare bedroom only has a pull-out sofa in it; he'll hate it! _Molly bit her lip as she let her worries flood her mind. _Oh god, I don't have any soap for him to use! He'll complain if he has to smell like a girl… like _me _the whole time!_

She was so distracted that she hadn't heard the train coming, and she was nearly knocked over by the air it pushed ahead of it. The realization that she was completely out of it made her grit her teeth, and she mentally swore at how ridiculous she was being at that moment.

_You know what? Sherlock doesn't have a choice! _She resolved, standing a little taller as if to bolster her own thoughts. _I am doing him a favour, which he should be grateful considering all the times he's made me look like a fool! _She winced at the thought of this past Christmas; God, that was the most humiliating thing she'd ever experienced! After all she'd been through, most people would have written off their acquaintance with him long ago. But not Molly…

_No, I'm the dolt who's madly in love with a self-described sociopath… _

Molly shook the thoughts out of her head once more and joined the crowds boarding the train. It was later that normal, so it wasn't too packed, and she actually got a seat. Probably for the best since at the rate she was going, running off virtually no sleep for almost 2 days now, she was likely to drop with exhaustion.

_That would be a sight… a woman just passed out on the floor, riding round and round on the tube until the police came and got me. _She chuckled at the thought of Lestrade having to pick her up and carry her off the train. She wondered if he would take her to jail, or take her home… of even his house. Even though most people thought she was a bit of an airhead, she was actually very much aware that Lestrade found her very attractive on that same night Sherlock had utterly humiliated her.

_If I was a normal person, I would have gone for someone like him. _she thought with a small smile. Sure, even if it wasn't the man she wanted that looked at her like that, it still felt _good_ that someone noticed she was a woman, and not just Molly Hooper. But in the end, it wasn't Greg's attention that she wanted…

_Well, I'm going to get more than enough attention from him now! _She thought, biting her lip again. She'd never thought he cared, or even noticed her before yesterday. As she had pointed out to him, she didn't count to him, as far as she was concerned. And honestly, how could anyone else believe otherwise? Sherlock was in his own world most of the time, and barely noticed anyone else… least of all her! Then of course, all of those horribly awkward conversations…

The memory of Christmas came back again. _Ugh, stop it! _She thought bitterly, clenching her teeth to mentally shake her. _No point in thinking about it all now…_

The train slowed at the station she needed to transfer at. She stood slowly and noticed someone watching her from the other end of the carriage. A sudden realization hit her that made her freeze in place; what if the Holmes brothers were wrong? What is Moriarty _did_ have a plan for her? _Lord, it would only make sense if he saved something special for me… after all, we did date for a bit! And there's nothing better than getting back at an ex, even if it's someone you never felt a thing for in the first place. _

Molly stared back at the man who was still watching her. No doubt she resembled a deer in the headlights of a car at that moment, but she was terrified. She considered not getting off the train and just continuing down the line until he got off first, but then realized that that could be never. _No, I have to get off… I have to make it home! Mycroft swore I had protection at my flat, so I need to make it there._ She told herself, then willed her feet to move towards the open doors and off the train. To her relief, once she stood on the platform and looked back, the man was still on the train, and no longer staring at her. She sighed, happy that it was all just an overreaction on her part. She couldn't quite understand why he was staring at her though… until the departing train caused a gush of wind, which blew a white coat around her. _Oh God, I forgot to take off my lab coat! _She could feel her cheeks burning red with humiliation. No wonder the man was gawking at her; she probably looked like a lunatic wearing this on the Tube! She briefly considering taking it off and throwing it out, but the digital clock above the track caught her eye. _No time! _She sighed, then took in one more deep breath before she took off running towards the other platform.

By the time that she was halfway home on the North Bound line, she'd already let her imagination come up with no less then three possibilities of what Moriarty _could_ have planned for her. Never had she been more thankful that she'd not invited him to her flat, although she was sure if he really wanted to know where it was, he could have found out. But, as Sherlock pointed out, he didn't seem to care for her anymore.

_No, I served my purpose… got him an in with his obsession! _She grimaced at the thought. She felt almost guilt for it all, like she could have prevented it all from happening if she'd just ignored his comments on her blog… if she'd said no to the date. How different everything could have been. But now, she wondered if he really _hadn't_ forgotten about it. Maybe he really did have some diabolical plan for her, knowing that Sherlock would turn to her for help. _Thank God for the extra security…_

Suddenly, she wondered if Mycroft had her apartment bugged or something, to keep an eye on Sherlock. _Guess that will cut down on the amount of fun we can have,_ she thought with a smirk, then shook her head at her own ideas. I wouldn't matter if the apartment was bugged or not; Sherlock was never going to be interested in her. Not in as normal way, or in a way that she wanted. But that didn't mean she couldn't _think_ about it.

"Not here…" she muttered to herself, checking the lights above the door that showed the route; only two stops away now. And from the station, it would only be about 5 minutes until she was in the door of her flat. It was strange, she thought, how every day she rode this same subway, and nothing had ever changed. But today, Sherlock was 'dead,' and he was coming to stay with her. He wouldn't just be popping into her lab anymore whenever he wanted. He wouldn't be going home to Baker Street anymore, either.

"Oh, John!" She gasped suddenly. The woman across from her looked up from her evening paper, and Molly blushed when she realized that she'd said that aloud. She gave the woman an awkward smile, then looked down at the floor again. She'd forgotten about John in all the confusion since Sherlock jumped from the roof. _Oh, poor John… he must be a wreck! _She sighed, wishing that she could help ease the pain he no doubt felt, and tell him that Sherlock was fine and didn't throw himself from that roof in shame. Tell him that it was all real, that Sherlock wasn't a fraud. But Molly knew it wasn't possible; Mycroft could have her thrown away in a hole for the rest of her life if she did! But she knew she should… she knew it was right.

The bell chimed and the carriage doors opened. This was her stop. She jumped up out of her seat like it was a hot element on a stove, then bolted for the door, moving off the train and up the stairs out of the station as fast as she could. She had some time still until she had to make the call, but the house cleaning would take longer. She'd not had anyone over to her flat in months, so to say that it was a bit out of sorts was an understatement.

By the time she emerged from the station, it was raining. She cursed herself for not bringing her umbrella, but then again the weather had been sunny and bright yesterday morning when she left; there had been no need for it. So, to make do for the block that she had to travel now, she pulled her lab coat up over her head and ran down the sidewalk.

Camden Lock was a block and a half north, as was her flat; overlooking the canal and the bridge in an old, renovated, Victorian Warehouse. There was a market below that sold cheap women's clothes (although none of them appealed to Molly), but up four more levels was her two-bedroom, penthouse apartment. It was a nice flat (as far as she was concerned), but it was no Baker Street. This place was built in the 60s, and not a part of genuine Victoria architecture. She wondered if Sherlock would find it all too modern for his liking.

_Beggars can't be chosers, Dad always said… _She thought, finally reaching her lobby. She pulled her keys out of her messenger bag and opened the door, and slipped inside before anyone could (hopefully) see her. Then, with a sigh, she climbed the stairs to her left, taking them two at a time. She wasn't sure if it was fear or exhilaration that was driving her, but she'd never flown up those stairs so fast in the entire time she lived there. But then again, never in her life had she expected Sherlock Holmes to be coming for a sleep over! By the time she'd reached the door, she was panting with exhaustion, but she'd already made a list of things to do as soon as she was inside. And, when she finally did manage to open her door, priority number one came thundering at her.

"Oh, hi Toby…" she said sweetly. "I'm sorry I didn't come home, darling." Toby meowed angrily at her, clearly miffed that she hadn't been home last night to attend to his needs. He was an awfully demanding cat, to be sure, and Molly did feel guilty for it. "How about I give you some of the fancy stuff?" she offered, knowing that giving him an entire plate of something that was normally reserved for treats only would make up for the trauma. Toby understood and ran towards the fridge, then sat patiently in front of it, waiting. Molly sighed and started to tear off her lab coat, then kicked off her loafers before throwing them both into the closet by the door. The door was warped a bit, so it didn't close without a bit of force, but once she'd managed to get it to close, she turned around and leaned back on the door. At that moment, she looked around at her living room and kitchen, noting the cat toys scattered on the carpet and dirty dishes covered in old food lining the counter.

_Oh God! I've got so much work, _she paused and looked down at her phone for the time; 9:15 PM. She had only 10 minutes before she had to call, and that meant about one hour to clean her entire flat from top to bottom in order to please Sherlock. Not that it would be possible; she knew it wasn't likely to change anything, him staying in her flat. And the fact that he was leaving (possibly forever) meant it was even less likely.

"Well, I'll be damned if his last memory of me is my filthy flat!" she told herself, then pushed off the door and started to clean.

_**AN:**__** Alright, that's all for now! However, I am motivated by reviews, so please let me know what you think, and I'll try to get a new chapter up for you as soon as possible :)**_


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